


Meet me here, not in heaven

by Finn_FeverDream



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Being an outcast, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Moral Dilemmas, NO ONE KNOWS, Overthinking, Pity, Relationship Issues, Religious Conflict, Religious Discussion, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Pity, Soft Faith, Soft John Seed, Soft Seeds, Staci and Joey were not supposed to appear, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, does it get better?, like seriously they just plopped into this story while rewriting it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-03-19 18:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18975841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finn_FeverDream/pseuds/Finn_FeverDream
Summary: After he met her once again, he wasn't really sure whether he still considered her his enemy.And after everything, she also isn't sure whether she should kill him.How did everything go bad? How did enemies become anchors to each other?





	1. On how we met

She had never believed in a divine being. She was raised without a religion, without faith in a being she couldn’t see. She had remained with this, choosing to identify herself as such: an atheist.  
She was quite intrigued when she came to Hope County to arrest some lunatic preaching the words of God. A cult, they had called the group and she understood.

She wasn’t against the idea of religion, believing everybody could make such a choice for themselves. She was glad though when she clasped the hand cuffs around the Father, as they called him, and didn’t have to listen to his monologue about the lord.  
When she awoke after the terrible helicopter crash, she was distorted. And then Joseph’s voice reached her and despite her circumstances she had to stop her gagging due to his singing.

She helped the resistance and even dared to call Pastor Jerome a friend. She was open about her being an atheist. He was okay with it though he didn’t completely understand it. No faith at all? It seemed weird to him.  
And still, he kept the topic as is and didn’t start preaching. One time, late in the evening when she stopped by at Falls End, he questioned her about her life, asked for a simple why. She explained her upbringing, that there was no lack of something. She never had a place for a God in her and didn’t need it filled. He nodded, trying to understand. 

She originally intended to stay in Jacob’s region but after saving Falls End, she decided against the idea. And then she got marked, captured one too many outposts and the youngest Seed sibling was livid. The capture party followed her and she avoided them for the most part. But she got shot and for a moment she staggered. It wasn’t the first time and she thought she could continue to run.  
But her world got blurry, little sparks appearing and she recognized it. It must be bliss. She tripped, fell face forward. She wanted to struggle and get up but darkness took over. One eye opened and she only could make out two Peggies before it all faded into darkness again.

Another awakening followed, her head dunked in water and lungs filling with the liquid. She was promptly lifted and shoved forwards towards John Seed. She immediately recognized him and noticed that it was the first time she saw him up-close in the flesh. “Not this one!” he screamed and gripped her throat, dragging her into the water once again. “So unclean,” he hissed, under his breath and just wished he could drown her. 

She had other things on her mind, her still fresh wounds in the water, presumably bliss seeping into her blood. She couldn’t focus on John, simply didn’t care if he drowned her on the spot.  
Joseph stopped his younger brother, said man growling slightly before handing her over. She felt close to passing out and her arms, stomach, thighs, for once did not hurt, numbed by the bliss infected water. She didn’t hear Joseph rant, didn’t feel like gagging or wanting to stop the religious talk. 

When she was rescued by Jerome she could him only him and hear him mutter a whispered thank you to the lord. Then her instincts kicked in and she started shooting the damned Peggies.  
Her quest continued and slowly she started freeing John’s region and he marked her again. “Wasn’t enough cleansing, huh?” she whispered to herself, seeing the capture party.  
She wasn’t afraid of neither John nor the bliss bullets that awaited her. The bliss made her feel better, made her mental health better, even if just for a moment. Her anguish, her self-harm, the hatred. It all vanished.  
And for John... she would have to face him at some point.

Whether he was at an advantage point or she was, she didn’t care. The better would win.


	2. Discovery of pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of self-harm wounds and scars.

She started running. The capture squad noticed and the first arrow hit her calf. There was a sting and then just pure nothingness. She was calm and glad when darkness engulfed her. 

She woke up with an aching headache and tried to soothe her temples and only then did she notice the restraints. The dark was slightly red and smelled awful. She felt awful.  
The bliss had worn off and her dark thoughts came again. She should have just wandered into Faith’s terrain but she remembered that she was afraid of the female. Afraid.  
She wasn’t afraid of much and when John Seed himself entered her view she didn’t flinch. He went on and on about how yes became his obsession. 

But all she could think about were his tattoos, they laid out in the open. And when he carted Hudson away, she couldn’t bring herself to want to flee.  
She wasn’t afraid and simply wanted to feel better. Her arms itched beneath her sloppily applied bandaid, the scabbing and fresh wounds healing. Yet, these were not the reason to her discomfort. Yes, the restrains for her hands dug into wounds on her wrists but her head was what hurt. This feeling, these thoughts.

John came back after a few minutes to find her still frozen. She hasn’t reacted to his outbursts, screams or threats. She was simply numb to the outside. He was intrigued to say the least. Intrigued by her behavior.  
When he reached her, she didn’t look up at him.  
“Aren’t you afraid?” he simply asked, shocked by his own uncertainty.

She didn’t answer and just looked straight ahead. His blood boiled and he threw himself at her. She was taunting him, he was sure about that. “Answer my question,” he hissed and she turned to look at him.  
“Why should I be afraid?” she simply asked, grey irises unmoving, fixed on his, “You’re no threat to me. God’s judgement will do nothing to me as he doesn’t exist. And if he does, I guess I will die and be proven wrong.”  
She paused and his ragged breath calmed. She was too numb, too numb to sit here in his confession room awaiting torture.

“As for you,” she started and rubbed her hands against the restraints to itch her arm, “I would rather die by your hands than by your sister’s... or my own.”  
She lowered her gaze and rubbed against the rope again. This time he noticed, eyes flying to her wrist. It was exposed the whole time and only now did he notice red lines among faded white.  
His curiosity got the best of him and she complied as he rolled her sleeves up. 

He saw more lines, again red against white, some lines scabbed over. They were too straight, too precise to be caused by an accident. She remained calm, didn’t care if he saw them. It felt good to let someone see it for once.  
When he saw a bandaid covering her biceps his taunting demeanor reappeared. “Aww, Deputy got hurt in the wild forests?” he asked, sarcasm painting his words.  
Mercilessly he pulled the bandaid away and was shocked to see a deep red hole there, puss easing out of it.  
“Didn’t think you’d mark me again so soon. Simply forgot to take care of it,” the girl muttered and looked to the ceiling. 

He breathed out and then hissed again. John stuck his finger out and touched the open wound. John had seen a fair share of deep wounds from times he carved out the sins he had tattooed. Every time he made contact with the wound, the person would scream and trash around. John loved the pain he caused others, it made his insides feel better. But when he put his index finger into her seeping wound she didn’t even flinch, let it silently happen.  
He was overwhelmed by the revelations. The junior deputy engulfed in self-harm, as much was clear. She did not react to him, to pain, to anything. And still, she was on the way to destroy his region. She fought on the side of the resistance.

He took a knife from his table and when he turned around again, there was again no fear in her eyes. He cut the ropes around her wrists, his fingertips slightly gliding over her wounds.  
When he had also freed her ankles, he helped her stand up by grabbing her hand and it was only then that he spoke up again. 

“Get out,” he breathed, defeated. It wasn’t angry, loud or anything like normal John Seed. She retreated back, careful steps and then turned to the exit.  
But he stopped again, a thought lingering on his mind. “Are you afraid of Faith? Are you afraid of my sister?” he asked and her head turned to him once again.  
She seemed to think and ponder, then her head signaled him a yes and then she was out of the room.

The moment her figure was gone, he was throwing things around and the knife he had used to free her, was stuck on the wall.  
Why was she afraid of his dainty adopted sister but not of him? Him, John Seed, the sadistic Seed sibling?  
Only in the evening, when he was nearly asleep did a thought cross his mind that made him be fully awake again.  
He knew her sin without her even confessing. Wrath. 

Wrath put on herself, hatred and power to destroy herself. The picture of her arms lingered in his mind and thought about how he would love to tattoo the sin onto her scarred body, to cover her scars with the very thing that caused them.  
He hadn’t seen a person so engulfed in a sin to put it on themselves in a long time. At least not since he had carved the word into his own body.


	3. Seeking bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of wounds and attempted suicide.

Her thoughts were harsh again and she was close to banging her head against the window of the stolen truck once again.

But she didn’t when she arrived at Falls End, seeing Pastor Jerome coming towards her.   
“Are you alright?” the man asked and observed her body, looking for wound or bruises.

“Yeah,” she stammered and hugged the man slightly, “He got me but it’s okay.”  
Jerome nodded and invited her into the Spread Eagle, to calm her nerves. But that wasn’t what she needed.

She needed bliss. That was all on her mind. Thoughts running back to her baptism.  
She was out of the conversation for most of the time and when night came and she left the place, her thoughts were still on the drug.

It took quite a scream to pull her out of her thoughts. “John?” she whispered puzzled and reached for the radio, “Private signal, I guess.”

“Yes, see it as our private conversation,” he told her, voice calm, “We didn’t get to confessing today after all.”

She snorted and let her gaze linger on the glowing stars. “Sure, if you want,” she said and kicked a pebble out of the way, “Any questions?”

There was silence on the other end and she heard an audible gulp. She already knew the question before he said anything and told him, answering his why to her fear. What did it matter now? She would love to die in bliss.

“All of you are fucked up but she just hides it all behind this façade of happiness and joy. She is the opposite of me and that scares me. This happiness through her pain,” she answered and long silence followed, making her walk along the trail in the forest in tranquility.

“Why did you let me go?” she finally asked, voice dripping with curiosity but his answer avoided her question, “I know your sin.”

She nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see it. “Whatever. Goodnight to you, John.” And before he could respond, she completely turned the radio off.

 

This continued on, he would try to talk to her at midnight almost every night and she would almost always respond. She would talk, voice stoic and numb and he would only preach his brother’s words.

Neither liked the content of the conversation but they enjoyed the company.

One night, the girl was particularly quiet and he was almost worried. “Have you stopped... you know the...?”  
His questions lingered unfinished in the air and she kicked a particularly big stone against a tree. In the shadow of the night she liked the sounds she could produce.

“No,” she simply stated and went to turn off the device, already feeling too exposed and vulnerable, when his soft voice stopped her.

“What does your body look like right now?” he asked and for a second she questioned wether this was intended as a perverted question. It wasn’t and she figured as much.

“Bloody, bruised and infected. John, let’s not talk about that.”   
She liked to talk about the nature and pets that she had had but this was too much. “But Deputy, would it hurt to sto...”

She didn’t let him finish, stopped his sentence, shut him out. She pushed him away and she was alone all over. Something she couldn’t stand.

She had no friends and Jerome would never really be close to her after all. He thought that God fought a way for others and that she was lost. He wanted her safe as well but knew her stance on the topic.

He never brought it up but it probably hurt him. She decided to at least say goodbye to him and drove to Falls End in the middle of the night.

No human in this god forsaken county was without a god and she knew. That fact made her even more miserable.

She parked the truck before the gates and then walked into the church, where she expected the pastor to be.   
“Ah, Deputy. Glad to see you,” his voice spoke to her and for once she was fearful in his presence. What if he discovered her sudden plan?

 “I just wanted to stop by and... ah... thank you,” she finally got out and he furrowed his brows but answered, “I don’t know for what exactly but you’re welcome anyway. May Go...”

He was about to talk about God in her presence and he was afraid she might be upset at him. She would never be for such a reason but he did not know that.

“May God bless you, Jerome,” she finished for him and smiled a big grin, then waved. She felt tears prickling her eyes.

He was confused but as suddenly as she appeared, she vanished and left a pastor behind who had no idea what had happened.

She was already on her way to Faith’s Region to fulfill her plan. On the way she found her weapon of choice and put the shining knives in her belt.

The night was silent except for the car and when she reached the infamous river, the sun was already starting to rise.   
She liked the view, the nature and how at peace she felt. Bliss was already entering her mind from the flowers across from her, on the other side of the Henbane River.

The car parked and she sprang into the Henbane River and swam across. Reaching the other side she fell into the field of flowers and slightly giggled. It felt great in the bliss.

She had almost forgotten her plan but when her hand absently touched her knives she knew what had to be done.

Untucking one and then rolling up her sleeves, she sucked in her breath and then grinded the cold metal into her arm, dragging it along the whole length. She continued with her second arm and then thought, that her legs still looked so bare. So both her legs endured the torment and afterwards followed her neck, her chest and her stomach until every part of her body except her face was bleeding profusely.

But there was no pain. Bliss filled her mind and body and as she fell back into the patch of white flowers, she genuinely smiled. While she stained the flowers red, her mind felt at peace and she was alright with dying right here, just how her plan was intended. And she was happy when she slipped away.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a complete vent fanfiction and portrays the acting figures very out of character.


End file.
